


Who Says Dark Ones Don't Dance?

by ifishouldvanish



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 'Nuff said, F/M, Rumbelle dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:23:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifishouldvanish/pseuds/ifishouldvanish
Summary: Belle wants to go dancing at a nightclub, but while the Dark One may dance, he doesn't dance likethat.





	Who Says Dark Ones Don't Dance?

**Author's Note:**

> This happened because @virgidearie is a saint and [transcribed a page out of the Rumbelle travel book.](http://virgidearie.tumblr.com/post/180685941566)
> 
> Apparently Belle wanted to hit the clubs one night.

Rumplestiltskin took a sip of his drink and looked out at the dance floor, feeling completely out of place.

Earlier, he and Belle had been cuddled up in bed, her head resting on his chest while they read a book. Later they’d enjoyed some tapas at the hotel bar, then returned to their room for a glorious nap. Hiking through scenic landscapes and discovering new cities was all well and good– but even the laziest days were an adventure when spent with one’s true love.

Belle had woken up first, a ball of energy, and informed him that she felt like dancing tonight. Personally, he was hoping they might pour their renewed energy into something _else,_ but before he could convince her to stay in bed, she’d already dashed out of the room and downstairs, determined to get some recommendations for night clubs in the area.

There was no turning her down when she returned, excitedly telling him about the place a few blocks from their hotel she heard was supposed to be fun. After all: if his Belle wanted to dance, she would dance.

And now she _was_ dancing.

He may have relegated himself to the bar, but Belle was out on the tiles, feeling the rhythm and moving her body to the beat.

It was terrible, awful noise, as far as he was concerned– but the way his wife was swaying her hips and waving her arms, tracing her fingertips over her skin while it glistened with sweat was…

Well, it was a more than sufficient distraction.

She caught him watching for umpteenth time and winked. Her bright smile dug into her lip, and she crooked a finger at him. She mouthed another, “come on,” jerking her head in encouragement.

He scoffed and shook his head, hiding his blush behind his glass.

The Dark One might dance, but he didn’t dance like _that._

“You should go for it,” the bartender said. “She’s cute.”

Rumple smiled. _“She_ is the most beautiful woman in this, or any other realm,” he told him with a smug grin.

The bartender gave him a puzzled look.

“She’s my wife.” he explained, and the bartender’s mouth rounded into an embarrassed _oh_ as he finally noticed the ring and put the pieces together.

“Why aren’t you dancing with her?”

“Please,” Rumple scowled. “All this… gyrating?” he gestured at the sweaty bodies pumping out on the floor, under flashing opaque lights. “Hardly what I’d call _dancing.”_

“Well, your wife seems to be enjoying it.”

“Of course she is,” Rumple smiled and looked over his shoulder again, watching her for a moment. “That’s why I love her.”

“So, you should get up there,” the bartender nudged. “Don’t have to be good. Just have some fun.”

“Don’t have to be _good?”_ Rumple scoffed and leaned in, narrowing his eyes at him. “I could dance _circles_ around everyone in this place.”

The bartender suppressed a snort and shook his head. “And yet you’re sitting here, man.”

“Because,” he shrugged. “The fact remains that _that–”_ he pointed a thumb behind him, “isn’t dancing.”

The bartender raised a skeptical brow. “…Alright. Let’s see it then,” he said. “What’s real dancing look like?”

Rumple scowled. “Like nothing anyone’s likely to ever see in _this_ establishment,” he muttered, taking another sip of his drink.

“Yeah, I guess not.” the bartender joked. “But the DJ _does_ take requests.” he winked, tossing his towel over his shoulder and moving onto his next customer.

*****

Belle wiped the sweat from her forehead as the music and people continued to pulse around her. She hasn’t exactly expected Rumple dance with her all night– certainly not to the strange pounding music that was playing– but she’d hoped that he’d maybe humor her with _one_ dance. Even if they just swayed off to the side with their arms around each other. Even if he just came up and let _her_ dance _around_ him.

Her repeated invitations did nothing to sway him though, and after so many songs, she supposed it was time to go. Head back to the hotel where they could enjoy a hot bath and a few glasses of wine together.

Once this song was over, she decided.

But when she looked out at the bar so she could signal as much to him, he wasn’t there.

Belle furrowed her brows as she searched the bar for him, wondering where he’d gone.

The bathroom, possibly.

Or perhaps the sounds and lights were bothering him more than he’d let on, and he stepped outside for a breather.

The music died down then, and a chorus of confused murmurs filled the venue. The DJ spoke some Spanish out into the crowd that Belle couldn’t quite understand over the rest of the noise, and that’s when she began to worry.

Everyone seemed to be slowly leaving the dance floor, but her husband was nowhere to be found.

Soon she was left standing alone, the rest of the club’s guests having relocated themselves to the perimeter. They were staring, watching and waiting, it seemed. The DJ continued her announcement– something about the next song being different, something special, and that she hoped they wouldn’t mind.

Belle scanned all the faces around her as the music started to play, searching in vain for Rumple– but then it occurred to her that the song playing wasn’t new and strange at all. It was familiar, and comforting, and reminded her of–

“Would you care to dance, Mrs Gold?”

She spun around and smiled, finding her husband offering his hand while a chorus of _aww_ filled the club.

“Rumple…” she chuckled and slowly accepted his hand. “What’s this?”

His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her close. “My wife wanted to dance tonight,” he said, and began to lead. “Can’t have her dancing alone all night, now, can I?”

She fought back a smile and shook her head.

“Besides,” he continued in her ear, _“someone_ had to do something about the dreadful music in here.”

Belle gave him a scolding look, and he smiled.

“You know I love you, Belle.”

She nodded and pressed her forehead to his, just like the first time. “I love you too, Rumple.”

They circled around the dance floor, and pair by pair, more couples came out to join them.

Rumple leaves into her ear. “You know, that bartender over there had the nerve to suggest that _I_ couldn’t dance,” he whispered.

Belle pulled back and raised a brow. “Is that right?”

“We’ll just have to show him, won’t we?” he winked.

“I think so,” she giggled. “Can’t have anyone foolishly thinking the Dark One doesn’t dance.”

Rumple hoisted her up and spun her around, earning them a small round of applause. Her tilted her back then, and they shared a kiss.

Breathless, Belle smiled up at him and wet her lips. “Would you like to uh… go back to the hotel after this?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
